A New Invasion
by Ron Jeremy for President
Summary: Shortly after the events of Legion another demonic invasion takes the Swamp of Sorrows by surprise. A smaller surgical strike of demons. What caused this? What do they hope to gain? Who or what are they after?
1. CHAPTER ONE - RETREAT

**CHAPTER ONE - RETREAT**

"Hold!" Captain Jays Darkmire belted.

The spearman braced. Steel tower shields and spears locked together forming a formidable phalanx. Almost as soon as the order was given the frontline collapsed under a wave hellish creatures pouring over the bridge. Shrieking imps danced over the shields splashing bright fel fire while the ravenous dog-like felhunters gnashed at the armored soldier's weak spots. The second line held their ground dutifully spearing the demons and pushing back with their own shields. For the moment they were holding.

"Sir we're not going to last long they'll overwhelm us out here in the open." Lieutenant Tomas Chane said.

Captain Darkmire turned to his fellow officer and long time friend.

"No we won't. We have to get to the goblin town of Bogpaddle. It's our only hope. I would say go to my people at the Harborage but it is too far" the gruff strained voice came from the broken Draenei Holaaru, his glowing sapphire eyes narrowing, before the Captain could respond.

Captain Darkmire looked over his shoulder where the rest of the Marshtide Watch refugees, soldiers and civilians alike, rested.

"Lieutenant. Hoolaru. Lead the rest of the survivors to Bogpaddle."

Screams could be heard from the rearguard phalanx as the demons tore through another line.

"I'm not going without you Drake." Lieutenant Chane said sternly.

"We're out of time. We'll hold them here at the bridge chokepoint for as long as we can. Go. Now. Their lives are in your hands"

Tomas Chane said nothing before turning.

"Listen up! Holaaru and Lieutenant Chane will lead you to refuge. Follow them now!" Captain Darkmire shouted.

Their tired ghastly faces looked up at him confused. They quickly began moving once the Lieutenant started barking angrily at them.

"Men to me!" Jays Darkmire shouted as loudly as he could.

The few men of the rearguard not engaged quickly ran back to their commander and formed up spears and shields at the ready.

The bloody melee that was the rearguard collapsed under a wave of demons. Captain Darkmire readied his two steel swords for combat. His men aimed their spears forward flanking him. First a felhunter came shrieking at him. He deflected its bite with his left sword while deftly stabbing it through the head with his right. His blade was coated in glowing green blood. As its corpse slid from his blade a brutish blue-skinned felguard two feet taller than him and muscle-bound brought its crimson fel axe down upon him. This time he deflected the blow off to the side with his right blade while side stepping. He quickly brought the left blade up and drove it through the creature's neck. The demon looked shocked as its green blood oozed down his blade before it slumped to the ground.

A blood curdling howl stunned the captain as another blue-skinned demon charged wielding a great crimson broadsword. Before Jays could react the demon drove the blade forward through his abdomen. It cut through his chainmail with ease. His blades fell to the ground with a clang. He looked down in shock. He wasn't in pain. The demon laughed. A deep sinister laugh.

Jays looked around. The entire rearguard was slain. Felhunters chewed on corpses while the flame spewing imps dance on them. His men's blood covered the ground. The demons advanced.

The crimson fel blade was pulled from his body. He fell on his back. As he looked behind himself from the ground he could still see the retreating soldiers and civilians. Jays realized they wouldn't make it. He had failed. His vision dimmed and then went black.

_Please feel free to give any feedback. All constructive criticism helps. I would like to write professionally so any feedback be it spelling, grammar, sentence/paragraph construction, plot, or otherwise is not only welcome but valued!_


	2. CHAPTER TWO - HOLD THE LINE

**CHAPTER TWO – HOLD THE LINE**

Lieutenant Chane stared on in disbelief. Off in the distance his superior officer and long time friend Captain Jays Darkmire fell to the ground his body sliding off the great crimson broadsword. The man who befriended him, the man who fought beside him for decades, and the man who saved him countless times before now was gone.

"I will hold them for as long as I can. Go on Lieutenant." Hoolaru said solemnly, breaking the lieutenant's shock.

"Sergeant Krug! Sergeant Wagner!" Tomas shouted, wasting no time.

The two bearded sergeants hurried towards him.

"Krug drop your gear. Drop anything that will slow you down. Run to Bogpaddle. Run as fast as you can and let them know we are coming. Don't stop." The Lieutenant ordered.

Sergeant Krug nodded silently before dropping his great steel claymore, his steel plate armor, and even his linen cloth shirt to the ground. Krug began sprinting.

Tomas looked back. The demonic horde was approaching worryingly fast.

"Sergeant Wagner. Lead the group from the front. I'll bring up the rear and keep the slowest amongst us moving forward. Go on we must keep pushing."

Sergeant Wagner also nodded silently before making his way to the front of the pack and barking orders for the Marshtide refugees to follow his lead.

Holaaru took several steps towards the oncoming demons still shrieking in their otherworldly voices. The Draenei closed his sapphire eyes. He extended his arms out to his sides and began chanting under his breath too quietly for Lieutenant Chane to make out the old sage's words.

"Quickly now! Quickly now! We can rest at bogpaddle. We'll be safe there. I'll be right behind you I promise. Quickly! Quickly!" Tomas yelled turning back towards the civilians and wounded soldiers who lagged behind the other refugees.

As they began moving once more Tomas heard a loud deafening cracking sound behind him. He wheeled around.

Before him stood the old Draenei sage Holaaru who faced the demons head on. His hands were enveloped in a bright emerald glow. The very earth of the swampy ground in front of the sage warped. Slowly a giant wall of dirt and mud rose from the swamp. It rose up as it expanded sideways. It's height grew just tall enough to block the demon's progress as it continued to expand outwards into the swamp's tree line. Glowing emerald tendrils from the earth wound upwards seemingly holding the earthen wall in place.

Lieutenant Tomas Chane looked on stunned. He was unable to move.

"Quickly! Quickly!" He shouted again, before turning around to usher the refugees onwards.

_Please feel free to give any feedback. All constructive criticism helps. I would like to write professionally so any feedback be it spelling, grammar, sentence/paragraph construction, plot, or otherwise is not only welcome but valued!_


	3. CHAPTER THREE - HOLAARU

**CHAPTER THREE – HOLAARU**

"Elemental spirits of Azeroth hear my plea. Elemental spirits of Azeroth hear my plea… Elemental spirits of Azeroth… Hear… My… Plea.." The old broken Draenei sage Holaaru chanted with increasing strain.

Holaaru was not aware of how much time had but he assumed a decent amount had. His entire focus, his entire being, and his reserves of energy were focused on keeping the earthen wall standing. The demons must be stopped. The refugees of Marshtide Watch must be saved. The old sage initially came from the Harborage in the Northeast of the Swamp of Sorrows seeking help but had grown close with the denizens of Marshtide Watch. They were good people. They deserved to survive.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Holaaru felt weak. The elemental spirits of Azeroth had indeed answered his call but an incredible amount of elemental energy was running through his body, using him as a conduit. The strain on his life force was immense and it was draining him rapidly.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

No longer could the old sage feel the strain against the earthen barrier but he could hear the demon's siege against it. His sapphire eyes opened wide. Visible cracks appeared.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Holaaru fell to his knees his life force almost spent.

"Elemental… Spirits… Of… Azeroth…"

The glowing emerald tendrils evaporated. The cracks grew. Finally, the barrier crumbled before him. Staring the old sage down were two demonic infernal behemoths. Giant creatures of grey stone and bright glowing fel fire green energy. One raised its gigantic stone fist to crush the old broken one.

Holaaru slumped backwards his eyes shutting forever before the stone fist reached him.

_Please feel free to give any feedback. All constructive criticism helps. I would like to write professionally so any feedback be it spelling, grammar, sentence/paragraph construction, plot, or otherwise is not only welcome but valued!_


End file.
